Universal Changes
by hollietoffeepops
Summary: AU, probably will have a bunch of references to the actual show. Based on the idea of there being multiple universes. Castiel, Sam and Dean find a new prophet and pull her from her universe into theirs. Chaos and soul searching ensues. This is my first story, so please enjoy :)
1. The Beginning

It's cold when I leave work. Winter has set in, the light breeze swirling around me makes me shiver. I set into a brisk walk, hoping to keep myself warm for the short walk home. I pause to light a cigarrette, savouring the first inhale, before continuing on my way. As I walk beneath a streetlight it flickers. I pause, glancing up at it as it flickers again before promptly going out. I look down the street as one by one the lights flicker and disappear. Uneasiness settles in my stomach, and I walk faster. The wind suddenly picks up, whipping my hair across my face. I push it back behind my ears in an effort to control it, but it is free again seconds later. As I round the corner electricity crackles through the air, the fine hairs on my arms stand on end and goosebumps ripple over my skin. I make a beeline for my driveway, and as I reach it a low whine fills my ears, becoming louder and louder until it feels as if my eardrums might explode. I drop to my knees and clap my hands over my ears, screaming. My vision is filled with a blinding white light and pain rips through my head at the sensory overload. Several voices begin to whisper inside of my head, one word ringing clear through all of the rest. This word is my last thought before I pass out: Redemption.

When I come to the first thing I take in is the smell of mildew, sweat and cheap cleaning product. Next is the hard mattress I'm laying on, its scratchy blankets uncomfortable on my skin. I hear nothing but the creak of floorboards and the click of a computer mouse.

I wonder if I've been kidnapped, but I quickly push that thought out of my head. I decide to play dead for a while longer while I attempt to get my bearings.

I continue to take in as much of my surroundings as I can without using my eyes, and I pick up several other scents that don't really help me figure out where I am. Whiskey is definitely the strongest, it hangs in the air along with the pungeant smell of stale take out.

I quickly realise that I am unbound, my hands lay folded across my stomach, and still fully clothed. Both of these facts give me great relief. I gently flex my fingers against my stomach, trying to dismiss the pins and needles that have settled in the very tips, and that is when I notice the wrongness. My body feels wrong, different. My limbs feel stretched, my bones ache as if I've been run over by a steam roller. Even my skin feels different, tight and tingly. I wrack my brain, and come to the conclusion that whoever took me must have drugged me. That's the only explanation.

A phone starts ringing, bringing me out of my own head and back to reality.

"Hello? Yeah I've got her. Uh, well you will want to see this for yourself. Yes, it is as we discussed. Yes. Ok. Yes he is with me. Ok I will tell him. Ok, see you in five."

The voice is deep and gravelly, oozing power. A shiver slips down my spine, the fear that I've been suppressing begins to surface.

The room is silent again after that, but for the click of the mouse and creaking of the floorboards.

"For gods sake, would you stop pacing? Jeez anyone would think you're waiting for your prom date to show up." The creaking stops abruptly and I can feel the temperature of the air drop. The air is tense, the soft inhale-exhale of two people is all that I can hear.

The tension is broken by the rumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel as a car pulls up nearby.

"Thank god," the computer man mutters, floorboards creak as heavy footsteps make their way across the room, a shadow flickers past my eyelids and I concentrate on keeping my breath slow and even. The door opens, sending humid air wafting into the room carrying the faint scent of cheap take out and exhaust fumes.

"Hey," a gruff voice rings out, loud in the heavy tension of the room.

Greetings from the other two follow, and a whispered conversation takes place. I strain to hear what is said, but only catch a few words here and there.

"...got caught up... That her? Yeah I bought...no, you told me... Wait wait wait, what? Holy crap, no way!"

The last bit is significantly louder, his voice disbelieving, and is followed by fast, heavy footsteps that bring him right to the bed I'm laying on.

"Jesus," the third man whispers, "I thought... Has she woken up yet?"

"No," the pacing man says, "but... she shouldn't be unconscious for too much longer."

"Ah well, you can be the one to do the explaining then, you're the one with all the knowledge."

I hear a creak and the rustle of paper bags, and the pungent smell of greasy burgers fills the room once again, making my stomach growl audibly.

"Sounds like she's hungry too," the new man says through a mouthful of food. "Good thing I bought extra."

The room falls silent again, the sound of chewing fills my ears. My stomach gurgles again, clenching almost painfully at the thought of food, making me wonder how long I've been out.

For the next few minutes I mull over what's occurred since I woke, trying to put together the pieces of an impossible puzzle. I deduce that wherever I am is quite secluded, due to the lack of traffic flow, so possibly a cockroach motel in the middle of nowhere. That thought sends panic flitting through my body, and before I can squash it my heart begins to race and my breathing noticeably speeds up. Before I know it, three lots of footsteps are making their way to my bedside, shadows filling up the inside of my eyelids and I can feel them so close to me. Resisting the urge to cringe away I force myself to calm down, counting to ten in my head and easing the airflow into my lungs. One of them lets out a grunt and a muttered, "false alarm," and retreats back to wherever he was sitting, while the other two remain.

The tense stillness fills the room once more, I wish someone would speak, just to drown out the sound of my heart beat thundering in my ears.

Eventually the other two leave my side, apparently convinced that I'm not waking up anytime soon, and I resist letting out a sigh of relief. In the quiet that follows, I begin to form an escape plan. From what I can tell, the front door is directly opposite the bed I am laying on, the take out man is sitting at a table or on a couch near there, the pacing man is somewhere to my left and the computer man is to my right. I figure if I act fast enough, I should be able to make a dash for the front door and, if it is a motel like I suspect, run like mad to the reception and call the police. I can't feel the weight of my phone in my pocket, so they must have taken that when they grabbed me.

_Its now or never, _I think to myself, taking one last deep breath before spurring myself into action.

As it turns out, I never even make it off the bed. As I snap my eyes open and swing my legs over the edge, preparing to leap for the door, I see my kidnappers for the first time and freeze in my tracks. Staring back at me from almost exactly where I had pictured them are three very familiar faces...


	2. Revelations

_A/N Sorry it's taken me so long to update, life's been crazy lately. Thank you so much for the favourites and follows! It means alot that people are actually enjoying my story! Feedback is welcomed, so please review._

_All mistakes are purely my own as I have no beta, so I do apologise for any errors._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, the fabulous characters of this story all belong to King Kripke (aside from my protagonist of course, that particular character is all my doing mwahaha)_

_I hope you enjoy :)_

Chapter 2

The pacing man, with the bluest eyes I have ever seen, steps towards me, his face expressionless but for the slight crease between his eyebrows.

"Do not be afraid," he rumbles, "we aren't going to harm you, but you must remain calm."

"Oh yeah, real convincing Cas, I bet she feels totally safe in a room with three guys she's never met before." The take out man cuts in sarcastically. Cas shoots him a glare.

"Now is not the time for sarcasm, Dean, I was simply trying to reassure her-"

"Guys, enough!" The obscenely tall third man cuts in. "You can argue some other time."

"Butt out Sam." Dean says sharply.

I follow the exchange, hardly believing my eyes as I watch them interact.

_I must be dreaming_ I think as they continue to glare at each other. _I must be, I'm at home, in my bed asleep and I've dreamt up this whole thing. I just need to wake up. _I shake my head and reach up, pinching the skin of my arm hard.

"Ouch," I mutter, my voice deep with sleep, and I flinch when all three pairs of eyes flick back to me.

_Ok, so pinching didn't work. Now what? _Before I can try anything else, Sam takes a few steps towards me, his face soft and sympathetic. I scramble off the bed, stumbling as a wave of vertigo washes through me. I back up until I hit a wall, leaning heavily on it to prevent myself from falling to the floor.

"I need to wake up," I mutter to myself, "I have to wake up, wake up, wake up." I close my eyes and slap my face hard enough to make my eyes water. Cheek stinging, I peek out at the room and they're still there, staring at me like I'm a mad person.

"Dammit, wake up!" I growl, bringing my hands to my face and digging my palms into my eyelids, rubbing furiously. When I open my eyes next all I can see is whirling colours and blurry shapes. I blink a few times until once again the same room comes into focus. The three men have not moved, and I let out a frustrated sigh. I begin to think that perhaps I'm not dreaming after all, but that must mean that I've gone insane. That, or I'm on a seriously weird acid trip. I take a deep, steadying breath and close my eyes, once again counting to ten in an attempt to calm myself.

When I have myself under control I let my eyes open, cringing when I see that nothing has changed. I sigh and resign myself to being stuck in this dream or whatever it is, deciding to just roll with it.

"Wha-" I clear my throat, trying to rid my voice of the scratchy deepness that comes with sleep. "What's going on?" I barely even recognise my own voice, I must have been asleep for a long time.

Sam is the first one to speak, his hazel eyes looking straight into my own as he edges closer.

"It's ok," he says, "we aren't here to hurt you. I'll explain everything, but first why don't you come sit down and eat something? You must be starving." At the mention of food my stomach lets out a very loud, very long rumble making me blush. Sam smiles. "Yeah that's what I thought," he holds out his hand. "Come on, we have an extra burger with your name on it." Eyeing him warily, I take a cautious step forward, vertigo clinging to the very edges of my vision causing me to sway slightly with every movement. Sam smiles welcomingly, gesturing towards the rickety looking table just beside the front door. I see brown take away bags, empty and full, littering the tabletop, as well as a half eaten burger and a coffee cup.

Cas, who is still hovering by the bed that I recently vacated, doesn't take his eyes off me, his face carefully schooled into a neutral expression. Dean slumps back down in his chair at the table, picks up his abandoned burger and takes a big bite, chewing vigorously.

"Sit," he says through a mouthful of food, "the food's getting cold."

I sigh, my hunger winning out over my fight or flight instinct, and make my way to the table, sitting down opposite Dean. He pushes a bag towards me, the smell of meat and cheese and greasy goodness hits me in the nose, and suddenly I'm ravenous.

I tip the contents of the bag onto the table, grab the burger and rip into it. The first mouthful is like heaven. This is quite possibly the best burger I have ever tasted, although that could just be because I haven't eaten in... I don't even know how long.

"So," I say through my food, not really giving a damn about table manners at this stage. "How long have I been here for?"

"Eighteen hours," Cas says from behind me. "We expected you to wake much sooner, but I think you're body may have gone into shock from all the ch-" Cas stops as Dean shoots him a glare over my shoulder.

"What he means is," Dean pauses to pop the last piece of his burger into his mouth and chews a couple times before continuing. "What Cas means is, being touched by an angel is some pretty heavy stuff, so your body probably needed time to recover."

I pause, my burger halfway to my mouth. I look from Dean to Sam and back again, my face settling into a frown. I drop my burger onto the paper bag it came in and cross my arms.

"Ok, so now what?" Sam and Dean exchange a glance, before looking back curiously back at me. I roll my eyes, feeling strangely calm and in control. "What's your end game? You've got me, for whatever reasons, I don't know where I am, I don't know why I'm here and, to be honest, I'm still about 85 per cent sure I'm dreaming because there is no other possible explanation for me to be sitting here, in a crappy motel room with the Winchesters and a fallen angel!" Their eyes go wide with shock and they exchange another look, this time they look baffled.

Suddenly my vision is full of Castiel as he looms over me, hands on either side of me on the chair, trapping me in.

"How do you know who we are? Who has given you this information?" He glares down at me threateningly, his eyes swirling with conflicting emotions. I lean as far back in my chair as I can, eyes wide with fear, heart pounding in my chest.

I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a squeak. Whatever composure I had gained vanishes as I stare into those eyes, my breath coming in short sharp bursts.

"Cas, calm down, let the kid explain." Dean says, standing and gripping Castiels fore arm tightly. The angel stares for a few seconds more before backing away and shaking Dean off. He stalks off to the other side of the room and leans against the wall, arms folded.

Dean returns to his chair and takes a swig of coffee as I regain my composure. Sam, who has remained silent through the whole exchange, strides over and flips the last chair around, straddling it and propping his folded arms across the top of it.

"How do you know who we are?" He questions, much gentler than Castiel.

"Well," I shake my head and sigh, "this is going to sound crazy, but you three are the main characters on my favourite TV show, Supernatural. " I look at them, still pretty sure that none of this happening.

"That is why I believe I'm either dreaming or stark raving bonkers, because unless this is a really really messed up prank, there is no other explanation for me to be sitting here, right now, with you three. There just isn't."

Sam and Dean look at each other again, seeming to have a silent conversation. Dean shakes his head, rubbing his hand across his face.

"Ok, look, you're not crazy. Or dreaming. Cas, feel free to correct me if I'm explaining this wrong. This is how it is," he looks directly at me as he speaks, "I don't have time to sugar coat this for you, so listen up. Where you come from, there's no such thing as monsters. We, apparently, only exist inside of a television screen, and there is no such thing as magic. There's no God, no Heaven or Hell, just normal, apple pie lives. You live, you die, the end. You following me so far?" He pauses and I nod, even though my mind is swirling with questions.

"Ok good, so if this TV show you were talking about is in any way accurate, you know what we do, what we hunt. You know that here, monsters and magic and good and evil are very real, yes?" Another pause, another nod.

"Ok, so now the best part. You're a prophet. Well. YOU'RE not, but the you of this universe is. Unfortunately, the you that we need is... Well, dead, and all the other prophets of your generation have either been killed or are still in diapers. So, we needed to take more...drastic steps to find you." My mind is reeling, going a million miles a minute.

"Hang on, just hold up a second." I put my hand up in a 'stop' motion and Dean stops and looks away. "So, let me get this straight, you have taken me from my home and brought me to this, what, alternate universe? Because the me that belongs in this world is dead? Why me? Why not go steal one of the other prophets from their other worlds? How can I be a prophet? I'm nothing special, I never have been and I probably never will be. And why now? Kevin has been dead for months, so why all of a sudden are you in desperate need of a prophet?" I stop, gasping for breath as the gravity of the situation hits me. Not only have I been taken from my home, but apparently I've been taken to a whole different world? A world where the other me is dead. My stomach turns and I feel as if I might throw up.

"Bathroom," I gasp, lurching to my feet and clutching my stomach. Sam points me in the direction and I stumble my way across the room and through a doorway that I hadn't noticed before. I slam the door behind me and drop to my knees in front of the stained toilet. My stomach turns again and I dry heave, spitting out the saliva that gathers in my mouth. My stomach churns and I retch, again and again. By the time it stops, my eyes are streaming and my throat is raw, the taste of bile on my tongue.

My chest is heaving as I gasp for breath, I need to calm down before I pass out. I begin counting, and I don't stop until my breath is even and my heart has stopped racing. I get up from the floor on shaky legs, using the sink to support myself. Turning the cold tap on, I splash my face, the cool water washing away the sweat and tears. I scoop some into my mouth, swish it around and spit it into the sink. I take another deep breath before blindly reaching for the towel that hangs next to the small shower stall and pat my face dry. When I pull the towel away I automatically look in the smudged mirror that sits above the sink. My eyes go wide, and I drop the towel in horror, not recognising the piercing green eyes that stare back at me.

"What..." I reach my hand up and run it over my face; the high cheekbones, the thin nose, the tanned skin of my stubbly cheeks. My hands travel into my hair next, normally long and curly, it is now short and straight, sticking up in tufts all over my head. My blouse stretches tight across my wide, noticeably flatter, chest, the hem falling to just above my narrow hips, exposing a tanned, flat stomach and part of a thin line of black hair which disappears into my pants. These are hanging very low, just barely clinging on to my hips and looking as if they could drop at any moment. Where I used to stand at 5'8, I estimate that, impossibly, I'm now almost as tall as Sam.

Any composure that I may have gained in the last few moments disolves.

"Oh...my...god." It comes as a whisper, and with the revelation of my change in appearance, the changes in my voice that I had tried to blame on sleep are obvious.

"Oh my GOD!" I touch my face again, the rough stubble strange against my fingertips. I jump when a knock sounds at the door.

"You ok in there?" Sam asks. I feel like screaming, yelling at the top of my lungs, no I am NOT ok, but instead I take yet another deep breath and calmly open the door. Drawing myself up to my full height, I look Sam in the eye (and a part of me is quietly satisfied by the fact that I can do so quite easily) and I say, "what do you think? Would you be 'ok' in my situation?"

I brush past him, back into the main room and make my way over to the rumpled bed, perching on the edge. Three pairs of eyes watch we warily as I shove my inner turmoil into my back of my mind. I breath in through my nose and hold it until I feel I can speak, letting it out of my mouth in one big whoosh.

"Ok," I begin, "so, it looks like I'm going to need to borrow some clothes." I look expectantly at Sam, who is still standing frozen by the bathroom door. His expression, a sort of bemused shock, would make me laugh any other day. "Sam, since you seem to be the one closest to...me in body type, could I please borrow a shirt and some pants?" I look at him expectantly and he seems to shake himself into action, nodding and going to the duffle bag sitting on the end of the other bed. He rifles through for a minute before producing what I asked for.

"Sorry, the jeans are kinda holey and the shirt is stained, but we haven't really had the funds to go shopping lately." He seems genuinely sorry as he passes me the clothes.

"Thank you, they will be fine. Now," I turn to Castiel, who hasn't moved from his post on the wall, "Castiel, you didn't happen to bring my bag along for the ride did you?" He stares at me for a few seconds before answering.

"No, I'm afraid your handbag was the least of my concerns at the time. My apologies."

Frustration at his sarcasm flares inside of me for a moment before I squash it down. Really, the only thing in there that I want is my wallet, and none of the cards would work anyway since that version of me doesn't exist in this place.

"Oh. Nevermind then, it's useless to me here anyway. What about my phone?" Dean speaks up then, having been conspicuously quiet since I came out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, your phones here. You know it won't work though, right? You can't call anybody. One, because the network you're on doesn't exist here, and two, because you're dead to everyone you know in this universe." I flinch at that reminder, storing my questions away for later.

"I don't want it for that reason. It's got music and photos on it, and I want some sort of connection to myself so I can stay sane in this-" a thought hits me like a ton of bricks then, making me pause. My hearts thuds loudly in my chest as I consider my next question, dreading the answer.

"Sam," I start, thinking that of the three in this room, he would be the one most likely to give me the truth. "If I'm here...does that mean I'm missing from my world?" My question hangs in the air and when Sam shifts his gaze away from mine, I have my answer.

"Oh God," I whisper, my brain going into overdrive. "Oh God, oh my God, you need to take me back, I need to go back, I can't be here. Did you even think about that before you took me?!" I throw myself to my feet and launch myself at Castiel, clutching the lapels of his trench coat and yanking him forward until we're nose to nose. "Castiel," my voice is low, almost a hiss, "did you even think about my family? About what they will be going through with me gone?" My voice starts to rise. "Did you even think about the fact that I have a life? And a job? And a home? Do you even care? What about my mum? What about my girlfriend? How do you think they're feeling right now, you psychopathic son of a bitch?!" I'm screaming at him, shaking him, yet his face remains impassive as he places two fingers on my forehead and everything goes blank.

_What did you think? Please review and let me know :)_


	3. New Experiences

When I wake up back on the hard mattress of the motel bed, I know that I'm alone. The room is too quiet, too eerily still to be occupied. Instead of taking advantage of it like I probably should, I roll onto my side and curl into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. I keep my eyes firmly shut, even though I know I can't ignore my situation forever. I just need some time to deal, to work through it all inside my own head. To get a grip on... Everything.

_I can't believe it, _I think. _This is so unreal. I'm a prophet. A freaking PROPHET. Angels are real. Demons are real. All of the monsters and evil sons of bitches from the show are actually real. _My mind is reeling from the information overload I've received since being here. The thought that all of the things that go bump in the night actually exist makes me want to lock myself in a room and never leave. It makes my skin crawl and terror lick at my spine.

I lay on the bed for I don't even know how long, thoughts wandering, briefly mulling over one thing before moving on to another. The one that hurts the most is the thought of the life I've left behind, the people who will mourn me and search for me before eventually giving up on me. The pain they must be going through and will continue to go through until they get closure. An idea begins to form then, it's not much since I don't really understand the mechanics of the whole alternate universe thing, but I store it away in the back of my mind for a more appropriate time.

I must drift off after a while, because I'm startled awake by the front door slamming shut.

"Rise and shine kid, you're wasting daylight," Deans voice cuts through the air and I roll onto my back, staring blankly up at the whitewashed ceiling.

"Come on," Dean strides to the edge of the bed and drops the clothes Sam got out for me onto my stomach. "We've wasted enough time as it is. We'll answer the rest of your questions once we hit the road." He disappears into the bathroom and I sit up, swinging my legs over to plant my feet on the floor. I put my head in my hands and rub the sleep from my eyes. A faint headache is starting to pull at the base of my skull. I sigh and get to my feet, the rush of vertigo not quite as strong as the first time.

_I s'pose I'm adjusting to my new height, _I think, shaking out the clothes that are to be mine until I can acquire some of my own. I toss them onto the bed and unbutton my blouse. Thankfully, my singlet still sort of fits, and I quickly ditch the bra_. Not like I need it now, _I chuckle. The shirt fits quite well, a little loose around the shoulders since I'm not as built as Sam. Now comes the interesting bit. I glance up as Dean makes his way out of the bathroom carrying a toiletries bag. He nods at me and walks to the door.

"I'll be in the car, you better haul ass 'cause we've got somewhere to be and there's a long drive ahead of us." He closes the door behind him and I take a deep breath before dropping my pants. I look down as I step out of them and the shock of what I see freezes me to the spot. I sort of know what to expect, but actually seeing it makes it all the more real. The tanned, toned skin with a fine covering of dark hair is a very stark contrast to the smooth, pale, slightly chubby legs I'm used to seeing. And then there's the very obviously male parts the bulge obscenely against the pretty lingerie that I had bought last week to surprise my girlfriend. I contemplate going commando, since the underwear is no longer as comfortable as it was previously, but quickly dismiss that idea. I am in no way ready to see all of... That. I quickly kick my pants away and slip into the worn jeans, which are an almost perfect fit, just slightly too long in the leg.

I gather up my discarded clothes, giving them one last long look, before dropping them into the trash can beside the front door and making my way outside into the blinding sunlight.

I blink a few times and glance around. The outer appearance of the motel is just as unimpressive as the inside had been. The large, faded sign on the edge of the small parking lot calls it the Pink Lady motel, and including the room I just came out of, I count a total of twelve rooms. I turn to my right and there, sleek and black and just as sexy as it is on TV, sits the '67 Chevy impala that has been my dream car since I was 13. I let out a long low whistle and examine the beauty in front of me, walking around to the right passenger side door. I run my fingers over the cool, smooth exterior, relishing the touch. When I open the door, the smell of leather, men's body wash and what I assume is gunpowder washing over me and I close my eyes and inhale deeply.

As I climb inside with a huge stupid grin on my face, my eyes meet the amused gazes of Sam and Dean. I shrug and relax into the soft leather of the bench seat, and it feels like home.

_Maybe this won't be so bad afterall, _I think, feeling oddly at ease, as if I've been in this car with these people a thousand times before.

Dean chuckles and the engine roars into life, the rumble of it vibrates through my body.

"So, I see you like my baby huh?" He reverses, turns and glides out of the parking lot, out onto the open road.

"What can I say, I've always loved this car." I say with another grin. "My dad, he was a lover of Chevys. Well, classic cars in general really, but one thing we definitely had in common was admiration for this beauty." I smile, memories flooding back to me of the times when dad and I would sit together and watch Supernatural on a Friday night.

"Your dad has good taste," Dean chuckles. My smile fades.

"Had." I say. "He had good taste. He died when I was sixteen." Silence reigns for a few seconds, nothing but the sound of the tyres on the road and the rev of the engine.

"I'm sorry," Dean grunts.

I nod, turning my gaze to the scenery flashing by the window. The small town we were staying in is a speck in the rear view mirror, nothing but a long stretch of road ahead of us and paddocks on either side. The silence turns uncomfortable and Dean clears his throat, reaching over and turning the stereo on. Classic rock fills the car and within minutes I find myself humming along.

*...And be a simple kind of man, oh be something you love and understand. Baby be a simple kind of man, oh won't you do this for me son, if you can...*

I glance up and catch Deans gaze in the rear view mirror, he has a small smile on his face as he watches me sing along.

"Classic rock fan too huh?" We share a grin and I nod.

"Hells yeah! I mean, I like a very wide range of music for sure, but I've always said that I was born in the wrong generation." I smile, my head nodding to the beat as the song changes to a slightly faster one.

This carries on for the next few miles, Dean and I singing along to Lynyrd Skynyrd while Sam rests his head on the window and pretends to sleep. As we get further away from civilisation, the backwoods country roads become more bumpy, and my bladder begins to scream at me. I realise that I probably haven't relieved myself for over twenty four hours, and I'm paying for it now. I quit the singing, and concentrate on not wetting my pants. Dean must notice my change in mood, because the music is turned down and I can feel his eyes on me.

"You ok kid?" I met his gaze and nod, tensing as we go over a particularly uncomfortable bump. I clench my hands in my lap, pinching the skin between my fingers, desperately trying to take my mind off of my need to pee. When I glance back up Dean is watching me, looking unconvinced.

"I'm fine," I say, slipping in a small smile before turning my gaze back out the window. The next few minutes are probably the most uncomfortable I've ever experienced. I feel every single bump and dip in the road, my bladder feels as if it's on fire. I'm dreading the thought of having to use a public rest room somewhere, or worse, having to squat on the side of the road... Wait a minute. I grin to myself, and for the first time my overnight sex change seems like a blessing.

"Hey, is there a rest stop ahead somewhere? I need a bathroom break." Dean flicks his eyes up to the mirror and shakes his head.

"Na, sorry kid, there's nothing for the next hour or so. If you can hold it til then we can stop there, if not you'll just have to piss on the side of the road." I weigh my options and my bladder decides for me.

"I'm really desperate, can we stop? I'll try be quick." Dean shrugs and pulls off to the side, throwing the car into neutral.

"Come on then, I may as well take a leak too, since we've stopped." He gets out of the car, the slam of the door wakes Sam and he looks around confused.

"Why have we stopped?" His voice is groggy with sleep and he turns to look at me in the back.

"Uh, bathroom break," I say, swinging my door open and climbing out of the car. I follow Dean to a nearby copse of trees, truly desperate now. I watch Dean out of the corner of my eye, mimicking his movements. I walk over to a tree that's just far enough away not to make things awkward and cautiously unzip my jeans. I reach in and tug my underwear to the side, pulling my newly acquired appendage through the gap the zip creates in the front of my jeans. The skin catches slightly on the teeth of the zipper, pinching and making me flinch. It's very sensitive to touch, the skin soft and hot in my hand.

_Well, I've finally touched my first penis, _I think to myself with a chuckle. I can hear the splash of Deans urine hitting the base of the tree, and it reminds me of why I'm here.

_Right, focus. It can't be that hard, _I look down and I'm quietly impressed by what I have in my hands. I grip it firmly, aiming towards the roots of my tree, and relax. It takes a few seconds but before I know it a stream of pee is flowing, giving me instant relief. I close my eyes for a second and let out a sigh.

"There's nothing quite like a good piss when you're absolutely bursting," I say with a chuckle, glancing over at Dean. He zips up and laughs, shaking his head.

"Yeah, tell me about it." He heads back to the car, leaving me to pee in peace.

When the flow dwindles down to nothing, I shake off and tuck myself away, pulling the zip back carefully so I don't snag anything. I walk away with a sense of achievement, feeling one step closer to coming to terms with my predicament.

Back in the car music is once again blaring through the speakers, and Sam has his head buried in a leather bound book.

"You good?" Dean asks me, starting the car with a flourish.

"Yup, much better," I reply with a smile, returning my gaze to the book in Sams hands.

"What are you reading?" I ask him, genuinely curious.

"I'm just reading up on some old Greek mythology, purely recreational." He says with a wry smile, his eyes never leaving the words on the page in front of him. I lean forward and attempt to read over his shoulder, Greek mythology having always fascinated me, but the book isn't in English.

"What language is that, Latin?" I ask, baffled. Sam chuckles and nods.

"Good guess." I stare at him, mouth open.

"You can read Latin? Oh wait, I forgot who I was talking to for a second." Dean laughs out loud at that and Sam shoots him a glare.

"There's nothing wrong with having an education," he replies snippily, mouth turned down into a frown.

"I was just pulling your leg," I inform him. "I think it's really cool, I wish I could understand Latin. Or any other language, really." Sams face lights up at that and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Here we go," he mutters, eyes trained on the road in front of him.

"I could teach you if you want," Sam says excitedly, turning in his seat to face me. "It would take some time, but it's a lot easier than it looks."

"Oh really? That would actually be pretty awesome." I grin, excited about the prospect of learning a new language.

"Yeah sure, when we get to the bunker we'll get you settled in and we can start whenever you're ready." My heart thuds at the mention of the bunker. I'd almost forgotten about the bunker!

"Sounds like a plan!" Dean rolls his eyes once more, this time at my excitement, and grumbles to himself about being surrounded by nerds.

Sam settles back into his seat, face buried in the book once more, and I let myself relax into the cushy leather of my own seat. I decide, right then and there, that if I'm going to be stuck here for any length of time that I may as well enjoy myself. I shove all thoughts of home to the back of my mind and lock them up tight, turning my thoughts towards happier things. For the first time since I woke up in that dingy motel room I feel totally at peace.


	4. Visions

_**A/N: Hi, sorry its taken me so long to post, I've had a very stressful three weeks and just haven't had time to write. This chapter was hard, not sure if I like the direction I've taken the story, but I guess we will all see how it goes.**_

_**Disclaimer: The lovely characters in this story belong to King Kripke, I'm only borrowing them for a while.**_

_**Enjoy :)**_

Ten minutes. That's how long it takes me to notice Castiels absence. I glance at the faces of the two men sitting in font of me, but neither of them seems concerned. Dean's nodding his head an tapping his hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the current Def Leppard song that's oozing through the speakers, while Sams face is a mask of concentration as he studies the book in his lap.

"Hey, uh," I pause to clear my throat, still not used to the deep male voice that exits my mouth. "Where's Castiel?" Deans eyes flick up to the meet mine in the rear view mirror, Sam just rolls his eyes as if to say, I'll let Dean take this one.

"He left on some... Angel business. Said he'd call if anything comes up." Dean chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "Still makes me laugh. Angel of The Lord using a cell phone. Now that he's got his wings back he should just pop in like he us- son of a bitch!" The car swerves violently as the angel in questions pops into existence next to me. Dean manages to correct our course and glares at Castiel in the mirror.

"Hello Dean," Castiel rumbles, "Sam." He nods at each in turn, before turning to me and studying me with his probing eyes.

"Dammit Cas, I know I said you should just pop in but I didn't mean it literally!" Dean grumbles from the front. Castiel pays him no mind, continuing to stare at me. When our eyes connect I feel like I'm being pulled into the shadowy blue depths, a falling sensation so strong that my whole body jolts. I gasp and brace myself on the seat, my hand white knuckling the door. I break away and close my eyes, breathing in and out deeply for several seconds. The car is eerily silent while I get myself under control.

Dean breaks the quiet.

"You ok kid?" His voice rings in my ears and a sudden headache grips my temples.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." My voice is a mere whisper, but it sets my head pounding and multi coloured dots to swirl against my eyelids. I groan and drop my head into my hands, squeezing gently the way I used to when I would get migraines. Instead of lessening the pain it triples it. I feel the car swerve once again and grind to a halt. Voices overlap around me, the pounding in my head too loud for anything to filter through.

Someone is gripping my hands, pulling them away from my face. When I open my eyes my vision is filled with Castiels eyes, and this time when I fall I can't stop.

_I'm in a room. The edges are dark and blurry, shapes move around just outside of my field of vision. There's a man standing across the room, his back to me. When he turns, my stomach drops. Despite the fact that I've never seen him before, something inside of me recognises him, calls out to him. He is of average height, has medium length brown hair, and the most remarkable eyes I have ever seen; gold and amber flecks shifting within the chocolate brown depths. _

_The mans thin lips twitch upwards in a smile, his whole body, before stiff and tense, relaxes as he unwraps a lollipop that he's suddenly holding._

_'Who...?' Something niggles at the back of my mind and I feel like I should know who this man is._

_"I... I know you." Realisation dawns on me and my eyes widen. Memories, flashes of the T.V show I worshipped back home march through my brain. Alien abductions, maple syrup, pig'n a poke, Dr. Sexy, Lucifer and his angel blade... _

_"But, you're dead. Lucifer killed you. How are you here?"_

_"I know it wouldn't take you long, even in this new body." Gabriel looks down at his new Vessel, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off of his black dress pants. "Jack here isn't as comfortable as my old Vessel, but he was very willing." He looks back up at me and his face splits in a Cheshire cat worthy grin. "But enough about ol' Jack. I'm not here for idle chit chat. We need to talk."_

_My mind is racing with the information I just received. Gabriel's alive. 'Wait until I tell the others, they won't believe it.'_

_"Ah ah ah, no. I can't have you letting it slip to the Hardy boys just yet. There are certain... plans that need to be set in motion, an order to things. They will know soon enough." I narrow my eyes at his words, not liking the direction this is heading._

_"This isn't going to be like the apocolypse is it? 'Cos the whole 'play your roles, you can't change destiny' rubbish is getting kinda old." Gabriel just rolls his eyes, flipping his dark hair out of his face._

_"Oh, come on! I stood up to my brother for those sons of bitches, I got killed for them! You, of all people, should remember that." He shakes his head, takes a breath and composes himself._

_"Now listen up. I can't tell you all of the details right now, time is running short and I need to get this vision wrapped up. Ya know, things to do, people to see." He steps towards me, reaching out as if to take my hand._

_"This what?" I back away from his outstretched hand, wanting answers. Gabriel sighs._

_"Vision. You're a prophet, remember? Every prophets powers manifest in a unique way. Chuck was responsible for writing the Winchester Gosple, Kevin was the interpreter of the tablets. You will get visions, but of a different sort to Chucks, and not neccessarily of the future. Remember that, it's important." Explanation out of the way he once again reaches out, sliding his warm hand into mine. "Now listen closely. And memorise every word I say." He gazes into my eyes and an oddly blank look comes across his face._

_"Metatron will fall. Heaven will come under new rule. Cast your eyes to the future, my children, and have faith. Your Father will return." His voice drones to a stop and he seems to shake himself, eyes once again alert and mischeivious. "I hate it when He does that." He pops the lollipop into his mouth and grins._

_"What does that mean? Was that... God? God is coming back?" _

_"Uh huh, the old man is returning, Hallelujah!" The last part is tinged with sarcasm as Gabriel lifts his arms and closes his eyes mockingly. "Finally coming home to clean up the damn mess he left behind." He shakes his head and tsks. "If He thinks I'm going to let Him just come back and have everything go back the way it was, He is dillisuional. And to think, He just sat by and watched as His beloved Earth was over run by __**demons.**__" He spits the word out like bile, his face a mask af bitter resentment for mere seconds before the happy joker returns, casting his eyes back up to my face._

_"But enough of that, I want you to take that message back to the boys, but under no circumstances are you to tell them who gave it to you, capice?"_

_I nod, despite the questions rolling around in my mind. Gabriel nods in return and goes to turn away. A memory flashes in my mind; screeching in my ears, blinding light blasting away my vision, a single word drummed into my head._

_"Wait!" I grab his wrist, pulling him back to face me. "What does 'redemption' mean? And why me?" Gabriels eyes flick down to where my hand is grasping at him and I swiftly drop my arm back to my side. He faces me once again, a smirk marring his vessels handsome features._

_"Trust me kid, you're not ready for the answers to those questions just yet. All in good time. Now, I'm a busy man. Later 'gator." He waggles his eye brows at me and with a snap of his fingers, the room disappears._

I come back to reality with a gasp, my chest heaving, eyes darting everywhere. I'm still in the back seat of the Impala, Sam is crouched on the ground beside the open back door, his face soft with concern. Castiel perches on the edge of the seat next to me, gaze locked onto me. Dean is turned around in the drivers seat, worried frown firmly set on his face. I take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself and Sam rests his hand on my knee.

"Are you ok?"

"What the Hell happened?"

"What did you see?"

Their voices overlap, Castiel the only one who seems to know what just happened. Sam and Dean turn to him, eyebrows raised. Castiel's eyes dont leave mine and he places a hand on my shoulder, repeating his question.

"What did you see?" I take a deep breath and try to sort my thoughts into some sort of order.

"I was given a message for you." Castiel nods, indicating that I should go on. I repeat to him what Gabriel told me and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

"What?" Dean practically explodes. He slams his way out of the car, fuming on the side of the road, muttering to himself about dead beat dads. Sam sighs and goes to his brother.

Castiels hand is still on my shoulder, and he seems to have turned to stone. His gaze is vacant, face frozen in the shocked expression.

"Castiel?" At the sound of my voice he rouses himself, and with a glance at me and a flutter of wings, he's gone.


End file.
